Over Oceans and Under Skies
by Pocky King Windy
Summary: Slash: Ulmo x Manwë - Ulmo is unsure of certain feelings regarding Manwë, and Varda gives him a helping hand.


Over Oceans And Under Skies

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Sir Mr. J.R.R. Tolkien and his heirs. I own this senseless satire.

Warning: Slash… and an obvious lack of plot.

Note: I've got to make a few things clear – Manwë doesn't look like an old dork here, okay? I know most of our precious readers have been influenced by the 'ugly old Elrond' outlook after the movie… I suppose you'd think the same after hearing how OLD Manwë is supposed to be. Well, SHUCKS! MY Manwë is a good looking young Valar, in image of his so-kind follower I met in my journeys for the past two months. And MY version of Ulmo is a shining hunk in emerald and silver armor… I suppose then you'd love it. Heh. Heh. Heh. XD

Plot Cockroach: This was inspired by some weird dream I had. Well, I have to kick in my own details. Hmm. Wish it's okay. I truly hope that after this there'll be a rise in Valar slash, meow hoo, hoo, haa, ha, ha! Oh, this happens before the Trees are sucked dry by evil giant spiders. (Did I get that right???)

____________________

Ulmo paced down the halls restlessly. The day was as fair as any other, only fairer still, now that they had had the wicked Melkor chained and unable to wreck chaos in their lives again. However, some of the Valar were slightly disturbed. It seemed a bit out of the way for Manwë to give Melkor a second chance, saying that he was to be judged before anything else was done. But that moment had not come yet, and the fair Powers resided in bliss, living one day at a time.

He was bored. Before the war against Utumno was waged and won, he had only wished for peace, but now after it had ended, he was beginning to feel a little restless, having more to think about than war. The others had no trouble enjoying the serenity, or so he thought, except maybe Oromë who was of course, fiery in temper and nature.

Actually, the Lord of the Waters was more frightened than bored. He was somehow frustrated at things, even as his thoughts flowed out to rivers, and they would return to one same channel –

Manwë.

In the time span of which they were building the kingdoms, Ulmo had had the time to reflect on the other Valar and his attributes. He could only say that they were almost perfect – he looked as elegant as any Air Lord should, spoke in a strangely lyrical but attractive voice, sometimes as low and soft as a breeze, and sometimes frighteningly severe, like a thunderstorm shaking the hills and dales, and he sung like an angel.

His eyes. True blue, bluer than the bluest skies, and as unreachable and depthless as the atmosphere and the air. His soft, silken, azure robes brought them out as a fine gold ring would a diamond, and he was… well, a little scantily clad, so Ulmo had to admit, with his robes slit high up to show his slender legs and his firm posterior, but… it matched him. He was not as big and bulky as most Lords would be, but small, slim, curved at the right angles, not overly feminine, nor overly masculine – he was just nice, just pleasant enough for Ulmo to slip his arms round that figure and –

"Ulmo?"

Ah, he had also completely forgot. This Air Lord was already taken.

Ulmo turned to face the lovely voice of a Lady he knew so well. She was too kind and beautiful to be hated, but Ulmo was also secretly jealous of her luck. In fact, he was not alone. It seemed like Melkor harbored the same feeling, only one much worse. Inwardly, the Ocean Lord sighed at that particular knowledge. It would be his doom should either Lord Manwë or the Lofty Lady Varda find out.

"Yes, my Lady?" he said, a smile coming naturally to his lips as he saw the pretty face before him. She smiled back politely at him, nodding her head and folding her smooth, fair hands neatly before her.

"I do feel that you look a little unnerved, Ulmo," she finally replied; "for you not to notice my presence in the room for the past few moments. Normally, you are as sharp as an eagle."

"Yes, I am indeed a little distracted," Ulmo admitted, _thinking about your husband_. But he did not say that out loud. He merely stared at her beauty in silence before proceeding again. "I believe I need some recreation."

"Indeed, and I can give no better counsel for you than to invite you go to the new bathhouse we have built together," she said smoothly. "You have not enjoyed it yet, have you?"

"Nay," he said, and after a while he spoke again. "I do not suppose I shall mind trying it out. Good day, my Lady."

He took her hand and kissed it, before turning and leaving, his emerald and brilliant silver mail glinting in the light of the Trees before he disappeared out of the door into the hallways. Varda stood behind, a small, secret smile painted on her rosy, delicate lips.

___________________

He stepped in, admiring the rich furnishings and carvings that adorned the bathhouse they had worked together to build. Lush foliage was entwined round the whitewashed pillars, with lily-white flowers blooming from the buds, and emanating a sweet scent that was enjoyable to breathe in. As the house was located high above, there were no need for lightings and walls, rather, there were large spaces across the supporting pillars for light to shine through. Small falls flowed from cracks in the walls, and birdsong filled the chamber.

Ulmo made his way to the cloakroom to slip out of his clothes. The Valar, he was sure, would normally come together at free hours to engage in talk and activity, but at this moment they were mostly preoccupied with other works. He was the only one with time to kill. That notion made Ulmo chuckle.

Ulmo caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and smiled. The Valar were a fortunate lot to be formed comely in appearance with a good taste in clothing that suited their countenances and nature well. Ulmo knew that he was handsome, although he hardly flaunted about it. His armor was a marvel to look at, bringing out his ocean deep eyes, and his wave-crested helmet firmly established his masculine, godly looks. He was not always rigid and firm, though he did like at times to tease and frighten the Elves, just for jest. His sea-green eyes sparkled with humor and the light reflected by the seas, a charm to all who would take at least a glance at it.

He was muscular enough, his body well toned and well proportioned. He was also rather tall and charming, his hair a strange combination of auburn and gold that gleamed in the light and his face was slightly elfish – he had high cheekbones and a firm, tall-bridged, well-sculptured nose. His skin, though, was fair, since he was water-based in nature, and it never got tanned.

Ulmo snapped out of his reverie and changed out of his clothes. After he had placed his armor and apparel safely at the counter, he stepped into the adjoined bath to enjoy a long soak before the others arrived.

However, not a step more was taken as he caught sight of another being, unclad, in the bath, unaware and dreaming. Ulmo felt his breath caught in his throat.

It was the lord of the breath of Varda, resting in the steaming water, his eyes closed, his dark lashes touching his skin lightly even as he dreamt on. Of what he dreamt no one knew, but it was a pleasurable one, to be noted by the small smile on his soft, rose-colored lips, which were naturally slightly pouting, inviting…

Ulmo found it hard to tear his gaze away from them. How he longed to touch them, to feel them, to taste –

A sapphire eye fluttered open, and another slowly after, as Manwë stared right into the Ocean Lord's face. The smile grew wider. "You have come to join us today, Ulmo."

Gentle, like a cool evening breeze.

"I am glad."

Lyrical, like music from the spheres.

Ulmo found himself speechless. He stood there dumbfounded, a towel wrapped round his waist. Manwë laughed. "Come, do not be shy. The bath is for all to enjoy. Sit by me, and we shall exchange some banter."

Saying so the Air Lord shifted from his position, standing up as he did so. Manwë was curiously beautiful in his own way. He was quite slight compared to the others, a small slip, like a breath of air, but fittingly so, since the air was his chief element. His skin was a light golden tan, like peaches a little baked under the sun, rich in hue and sweetly rosy and his hair was a smooth ebony, shining in the light, soft, and cut at the right length – not too long, nor was it too short. His eyes were amorous, a brilliant cerulean, strangely oriental and mysterious, with single eyelids, but tastefully proportioned, like a fine bred cat's. His face was a slightly round; heart-shaped, and his shoulders and body was delectably well curved and appealing.

Ulmo desperately tried to clam his jaw up before it fell to the ground at the exposure of the Air Lord's flesh. He took a seat by the Air Lord. Letting the water soak into his skin, he enjoyed the warmth it provided, as he sat there talking to Manwë. Soon, two hours slipped by, unknown to them. The others had not yet arrived.

"A great deal you know, of the wide, deep seas, Ulmo," he said in a dreamy tone, his blue eyes faraway and soaring, like clouds in the sky. "Lovely they are… I have always wondered what it is like to bathe in the green waters."

_I would have died, seeing you unclothed in my realm_, Ulmo thought, a blush coloring his cheeks at the image. He said nothing. Manwë turned to him.

"Are there any songs from the ocean, Ulmo?"

"Songs?"

"Yes, songs… Every bird in the sky has a song to sing, as well as the reeds, and the beasts of the land, and the people – do the fishes not have one too?" he asked. "A melody to hum to, when the waves crash upon the shores, and the sand tingles their fins?"

"There are few, but fortunately there are some," Ulmo said, a slight from creasing his brow. Manwë smiled.

"Can you sing them, please?"

The Ocean Lord's eyes went round. Sing? Was that not what Manwë was supposed to do? Sing? He took a look at the other's face, before registering that he was serious about it. Ulmo shrugged, and began to sing a few verses. Manwë closed his eyes, savoring the notes and the tones. His voice was deep and somewhat sorrowful, like the depths of the ocean… Deep, falling, bottomless – a distant dream that was not to be reached, not even by the Air Lord. And even as he sang, Ulmo's eyes fell on the Valar's blissful state, and how he seemed to drink in the melody, imperfect as it was.

Manwë had not even realized that Ulmo had stopped singing. He continued to soak in the warm bath, relishing the feel of the water and Ulmo's company. However, he had not expected what was to happen next.

Warm lips brushed against his own. He opened his eyes to see a somewhat frightened looking Ulmo, but the fear on his face melted when he realized Manwë was not retaliating. But he did not encourage it either. He sat and stared at Ulmo, and the Ocean Lord felt the air stir a little. Manwë's mind was at work. Finally, the Air Lord found his tongue.

"I have dreamt much about this, Ulmo, and I finally know now that the feeling is a shared one," he said calmly, his airy voice trailing round the room in circles. "And yet I feel a dread. I am married to another, to Varda, Fair Lady of the stars. Am I to deceive her for my own sanity? Am I to deceive myself that I do not feel so passionate?"

Ulmo noted the words, 'sanity' and 'deceive'. Manwë was grave. The Ocean Lord swallowed hard, and he brought his hands tentatively to wind around Manwë's curved shoulders. "I deceived myself, Manwë, for a long time. I do not deceive myself now. Did this cause you pain?"

"Nay, never," he said smilingly. "I love Varda, but at the same time, I love Ulmo."

The air was still for a moment.

"Is my heart big enough to bear the both of them… are you willing to share?"

"Always." Ulmo kissed the Air Lord's brow tenderly. He dimly recalled the lady's words _'I can give no better counsel for you than to go to the bathhouse'_. He knew, from that moment, that the Lady was as generous as she was fair. "And as for deceit, you are not deceiving her. I believe that it is her will for you to do as you wish… are you truly happy with this arrangement, Manwë?"

"I am."

___________________

In the halls, Varda stood with the others. She had arranged a banquet for them to drive them from the bathhouse, and no one questioned the two Lords' whereabouts. With her hands folded neatly before her, Varda smiled.

Outside, the Trees shone on, their eternal light beaming on the face of the Western earth.

___________________

The End

___________________

Note: Heh, finally! Now I can rest in peace without that irritating bug chewing up my brains tonight!

PS: I always believed Varda had a big heart!


End file.
